


Make me stop.

by Fafsernir



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Drunk Sex, First Time, Ineffable Husbands Week 2019, M/M, drunken idiots in love, sometime during Warlock's upbringing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-18 00:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fafsernir/pseuds/Fafsernir
Summary: For theIneffable Husbands NSFW Week'sDay 5: Strip Tease / Cabaret or Burlesque / Pole dancingThanksJustafewthingstosayfor helping, love!





	Make me stop.

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Ineffable Husbands NSFW Week's](https://ineffablehusbandsweek.tumblr.com/post/187228656901/ineffable-husbands-week-and-nsfw-ineffable) Day 5: Strip Tease / Cabaret or Burlesque / Pole dancing
> 
> Thanks [Justafewthingstosay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justafewthingstosay) for helping, love!

The glass was staring back at Crowley, challenging him. To what, Crowley still wasn’t sure, but he was ready.

“And— uh— I— and sprr…”

Crowley looked away, losing the staring contest he had started with the glass, to put all his attention on Aziraphale’s babbling.

“Ex-uh-tly!” Crowley exclaimed, getting up from his seat only to slump right back in it.

He took a deep, uneven breath.

They had been drinking. Again. It had become a routine, really. Raising the antichrist full-time could bring people together, sometimes. Well, people… Aziraphale and Crowley were not really people, but the situation was unusual, even for them. So they had started to drink in the evenings regularly. It helped create their characters, Crowley had said, while thinking that he just enjoyed growing closer to Aziraphale.

“Shhhh,” Aziraphale said, dragging the sound longer than any other human could hold their breaths for.

“Whaa—” Crowley complained after a while.

“You… you thinking… I can’t—” Aziraphale stopped. Burped. “I can’t think…” 

Crowley had been thinking aloud. If he were sober, he would have regretted it instantly. But in his drunken state, he couldn’t really give a damn.

“Whatcha gonna do, uh?” he said, stumbling to his feet and walking – lumping, slithering, sauntering, anything but a normal walk – towards Aziraphale.

Something passed in Aziraphale’s eyes. Crowley was too drunk to notice it.

“Just… stop, ‘s annoying. Am thinking too.”

“Make me,” Crowley said in an urge he couldn’t control, leaning against Aziraphale’s armchair.

Aziraphale’s eyes did not lock with Crowley’s. No, they stared down at his lips, and Crowley absently wetted them in anticipation, without controlling himself. He had already noticed some lingering eyes on his lips, and he had stared back, sometimes. He had always wondered what it would taste like, to kiss an angel. To kiss Aziraphale.

He didn’t have to wonder too long. Aziraphale was drunk, past the point where he cared about stuff.

Crowley found himself being dragged against lips in a rather violent crash. His whimper of pain turned into a groan of arousal when Aziraphale kissed him open-mouth. Crowley mainly… opened his eyes wildly and let Aziraphale kiss him. His hands were flailing unhelpfully along his side and the only reason he was still standing was solely due to the fact that Aziraphale’s grip on his clothes was so strong. 

When he finally closed his eyes, when his hands finally calmed down and rested on Aziraphale’s face, when he finally kissed back, Crowley felt at peace. 

Crowley should have thought to interrupt and ask if Aziraphale wanted to sober up, but to his defence, Aziraphale never paused either.

Crowley was overthinking everything, as usual, thinking about what would change between them, wondering if he was doing things right, wondering if Aziraphale felt as good as he did, worrying that his love wouldn’t be contained anymore, after this.

Feeling fingers on an initially non-exposed part of his body was enough of a shock to bring him back to the present. He let out a long moan when Aziraphale trailed kisses down his neck. He pulled his hair when he tugged his shirt down to kiss a chest that had never been kissed that lovingly. Aziraphale then tugged the shirt up, over Crowley’s head.

It was clumsy, they were drunk.

Crowley’s shirt was out of the way enough for Aziraphale to lavish at his chest, but it was still hanging on one of Crowley’s arm. He didn’t care. 

Instead, he opened his thighs, and he trapped Aziraphale between them, tightening his hold on Aziraphale’s hair slightly more when his cock finally got some attention as they rubbed their bodies together.

It was so messy, he had no idea what was happening.

He pulled Aziraphale up, towards his face. They missed the other’s mouth and laughed against each other when they found it. The situation was so unique, and could have been so awkward – but it didn’t feel awkward… Crowley’s top was still hanging on one of his arms and Aziraphale’s shirt was unbuttoned and pushed halfway down one of his arms and halfway up his back, but it was still very much on him. 

They didn’t care. Crowley was finally feeling Aziraphale’s lips, Aziraphale’s skin, Aziraphale’s body, Aziraphale’s weight on him, Aziraphale’s tongue. Aziraphale’s cock, he thought blissfully as he finally reached down and stroked it through the pants.

Aziraphale’s noises were out of this world, Crowley decided as he could hear him whimper against his ear when he hid his face in his neck. Crowley responded with equally uncontrolled sounds when Aziraphale trapped his skin between his teeth. Crowley bucked his hips up, meeting Aziraphale’s hand which was trying to open his pants.

When they managed to get the trousers out of the way enough for them to press their hips together, they paused.

They looked at each other for a moment.

Aziraphale’s eyes had never been darker, his hair had never looked so different, his cheeks had never been redder. Crowley took in his state, took in how he looked, because of Crowley, because of their kisses and hair pullings and clothes tugging. He stared into his eyes, and he saw the same desire he felt burning inside.

Their lips met again. Crowley thrust into Aziraphale’s hand with a muffled cry, and he felt Aziraphale mirroring him. He tried moving his hand as best as he could, rubbing the head, running his fingers down the shaft, but they quickly were simply fucking the other’s hand.

Crowley’s free hand scratched Aziraphale’s back, leaving a mark which made Aziraphale increase his thrusts. Crowley did it again. Aziraphale was pounding against his hand and cried out when his orgasm hit.

Crowley groaned when he felt the body tense and spasm above him. The fact that Aziraphale couldn’t control himself, and collapsed on him, made Crowley go over the edge. He felt a finger on his cock’s head and he shouted as he came in Aziraphale’s hand. His free hand went up his face to cover his mouth as he couldn’t calm down his moans and felt slightly self-conscious of the scream he had let out.

Aziraphale took the hand away and kissed it, trapping it close to his heart as he leaned against Crowley’s body.

They breathed for a while, not needing it to live, but needing it to calm down from the very human thing they had just done.

Crowley chuckled first. Aziraphale joined him soon enough, nestling close to his neck to try and hide his giggle.

“Can’t believe that just happened,” Crowley said, a bit less articulated than he thought.

Aziraphale was still smiling as he left kisses on his shoulders. The absurdity of the situation paled compared to its gravity. They had just had sex, in the most human way possible, and Crowley’s main question wasn’t even about what they would become but was curiosity about when Aziraphale had decided to grow a cock. It wasn’t as if they had ever talked about it.

He wondered how it had never happened before, too. Maybe it was the new-found physical proximity. Maybe they would have given in earlier if they had spent more time together.

Crowley hoped it wasn’t going to be a one-time thing.

As if listening to his thoughts – had Crowley been talking again? – Aziraphale’s fingers laced with the hand he was still holding onto. Crowley sighed and closed his eyes. He thought that maybe one of them ought to do something about the mess, but he didn’t move and neither did Aziraphale.


End file.
